


XIII. Seven Years of Bad Luck

by BubblyWashingMachine



Series: Every Little Hurt Counts [febuwhump 2021] [13]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Broken Bones, Canonical Child Abuse, Childhood, FebuWhump2021, Febuwhump, Gen, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt Vanya Hargreeves, Like she is in a lot of pain, POV Vanya Hargreeves, Pain, Pre-Canon, Prompt is hiding injury, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Siblings, Soft Luther Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Whump, febuwhumpday13, graphic depictions of pain, is that a thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblyWashingMachine/pseuds/BubblyWashingMachine
Summary: Sunday also means dance practice for the Umbrella Academy, and for Vanya, who isn’t allowed to participate in dance practice, it means her weekly violin recital for Pogo and Mom. While the others get to spin and twirl around with each other, she doesn’t even get the luxury of watching.“Seven is an odd number and we dance in pairs,” they would say apologetically. “You wouldn’t have a partner.”“I don’t mind. I can dance by myself,” she tried once, when they were eleven, and Allison laughed in her face.So Vanya, ever the odd number, usually spends Sundays in her room, while orchestral waltzes and two-steps and the sound of her siblings laughing and dancing floats up through the floorboards.But not today....A few days after Five runs away, Vanya finally gets to participate in the Umbrella Academy's dance class. However, it doesn't exactly live up to her expectations.
Relationships: Luther Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: Every Little Hurt Counts [febuwhump 2021] [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137428
Comments: 9
Kudos: 84





	XIII. Seven Years of Bad Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Ok first things first my cat jumped on my keyboard and FUCKED IT UP so now the touchpad is broken which means I'm writing this in tablet mode which is so fucking annoying. I was also halfway done with doing all the tags and stuff and she deleted it all so I had to start again. I'm very mad right now
> 
> Anyway I loved reading all your thoughts on yesterday's fic!! I hope you like this one too, it's smaller and sadder I think.

Sunday has always been one of Vanya’s least favourite days.

Despite the arbitrary half-hour of free time the children are given, Sunday also means dance practice for the Umbrella Academy, and for Vanya, who isn’t allowed to participate in dance practice, it means her weekly violin recital for Pogo and Mom. While the others get to spin and twirl around with each other, she doesn’t even get the luxury of watching.

“Seven is an odd number and we dance in pairs,” they would say apologetically. “You wouldn’t have a partner.”

“I don’t mind. I can dance by myself,” she tried once, when they were eleven, and Allison laughed in her face.

So Vanya, ever the odd number, usually spends Sundays in her room, while orchestral waltzes and two-steps and the sound of her siblings laughing and dancing floats up through the floorboards.

But not today.

“As your brother remains insistent on prolonging his display of childish impudence and fruitless rebellion,” Dad says sharply after breakfast, as the children wait to be discharged, “Number Seven will be taking his place during your dance lesson this afternoon. Dismissed.”

Vanya’s heart leaps into her throat. Her? _Dancing?_

She feels like she’s floating as she follows the others, on their way to the classroom. But the seat directly in front of her, where Five would normally sit – he has this terrible habit of leaning back on the legs of his chair, and one time lost his balance and tipped over backward, smacking his skull on Vanya’s desk. He had to get stitches, but still insists on doing it as if to prove a point – is empty. Like it has been for a while now...

And even though getting to be part of dance lessons is, like, something Vanya’s wanted her whole life, the achievement feels hollow when she knows it’s not because she earned it herself. She’s only being allowed to join because Five’s gone; so that someone _else_ won’t miss out on having a partner. She’s not _stupid._

She gets out her textbook.

Five’s absence is like a physical part of Vanya is missing, like someone’s cut off her hand – it’s been four days since he stormed out and she still keeps expecting him to randomly burst into her room in the middle of violin practice or the dead of night, rambling about math or something Diego did that pissed him off. Whether he actually managed to time travel, or he didn’t and he’s out there, too embarrassed to come back and admit so, Vanya’s sure he’ll come back eventually.

_But the fact of the matter is,_ Vanya thinks as the rest of the class files in and takes their places, staunchly ignoring the glaringly empty spot, _Five left. And he_ isn’t _back yet._

…

The morning passes by and Vanya feels herself buzzing with increasingly anxious energy.

Who will be her partner?

She hopes it’s Ben. He’s the least likely to berate or make fun of her if she makes a mistake, and she is sure that she’ll make plenty of those. Five once said Vanya has the grace of a baby giraffe; but half the height of one. He laughed so hard he snorted orange juice up his nose, and she shoved him off his chair.

According to him, dancing class is _‘booo-ring.’_ But she thinks he’d say the same about sitting in her room all day listening to the music and being left out.

_How tall is a baby giraffe, anyway?_ Vanya wonders, staring out the window while Mom tells them something about World War Two.

The classroom is in one of the mansion’s back rooms, the type of room that Dad doesn’t care about since guests never see it. And the view outside the window is a brick wall. There’s a poster advertising a new movie – or maybe an old movie, judging by how it has faded and peeled away from the bricks.

“Vanya? Are you paying attention?”

“Yes, Mom,” Vanya says quickly, cramming her wandering mind back inside her head where it belongs. “I’m listening.”

“Good,” Mom says, smiling, and Vanya looks down at her textbook and thinks _, I miss Five._

Finally, after morning lessons and then morning training – which just means more classes for Vanya – they have dance practice, right before lunch. She takes one of her pills to hopefully ease her nerves. She doesn’t want to embarrass herself.

Vanya has never been in the ballroom – well, not officially. Of course she’s _been_ in the room, but never to use it for its intended purpose. The others look at her funny as they all wait outside for the bell to ring, signalling the start of the lesson.

“Vanya, why are you here?” Klaus asks, squinting at her, and she bristles.

“Because—”

“She’s replacing Five, remember,” Allison says, sounding bored.

“I don’t see why Mom c-c-couldn’t have just stepped in,” Diego says, grumbling.

“She has to teach the class,” Luther says.

Ben turns to Vanya when Diego starts arguing back, and murmurs, “You okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” Vanya says, which is mostly true. She takes a deep breath, and then says hopefully, “Will, um, will you be my partner?”

“Oh, I’m sorry Vanya.” Ben shakes his head sympathetically. “We don’t get to choose. Mom picks at random every week.”

Vanya stomach sinks. “Oh.”

“For the record, I hope you’re my partner,” Ben says, grinning. “Diego’s a show-off, and Klaus always stomps on my toes.”

“Ah, ha,” Vanya says, jerkily. It’s not quite a laugh. She’s a bit out of breath for some reason. She picks at her cuticles.

Ben notices, and frowns. “Hey, you’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I – it’s just – I don’t really know how to dance,” Vanya admits.

“That’s okay,” Ben says kindly. “There’s a first time for—”

The bell rings, and suddenly everyone is jostling to get through the doors. Diego shoves past Vanya to be the first in, and she realises this might be a mistake. She wanted to dance, but – she didn’t think it would make her feel this bad. It hasn’t started yet and she’s already freaking out.

She swallows hard and follows them into the room. She stands next to Ben, the end of the line. In front of them, Mom is holding a record, and beside her, there is a table with a record player.

“Today, children,” she says, smiling placidly, “you will be learning to dance the tango.”

Vanya stiffens. _Isn’t the tango supposed to be really hard?_ She tries to subtly send Ben a panicked look, but his gaze is fixed ahead.

“As you all know, your brother Five hasn’t returned, so Vanya will be taking his place,” Mom says, and Vanya grimaces. “The tango is a dance that…”

Vanya stops listening as Mom lectures them on the history of the dance, sending herself into a spiral of worry instead. She’s going to embarrass herself – she just knows it. _Ugh._

“Now, I’ll pair you up, and then we can begin our lesson.”

Vanya zones back in, and Mom places the record on the table and steps forward. Vanya fidgets.

“Ben and Diego,” Mom decides. Ben sends Vanya an apologetic look. _Damnit._ “Allison and Klaus. Luther and Vanya.” She gestures for them to group up, and they shuffle into their pairs awkwardly.

Vanya sighs. Luther. Why Luther? She barely knows anything about him. All she knows is that he very clearly wishes he was with Allison instead.

“You ready?” He says, awkwardly. Maybe almost as awkward as she feels.

“Sorry,” she mumbles to him. Luther looks confused.

“What for?”

“That you’re stuck with me,” she clarifies.

Luther shrugs, and glances over to where Allison and Klaus are giggling about something. “That’s okay. You’ve never done this before, have you?”

“No.”

“Well,” he smiles at her easily, and leans in. “Wanna know something?”

“Sure,” Vanya says, captivated. No one ever wants to tell her anything.

“I suck at dancing,” Luther whispers, and then he laughs.

She finds herself relaxing ever so slightly. Maybe this won’t be so bad! Luther is different – he’s never been mean to her on purpose, not like Diego or Allison. He just – has a sphere that being Number Seven prevents her from joining, and he’s very focused on the team, and so Vanya doesn’t ever seem to be on his radar. But Luther is – friendly. He’s a bit like a big puppy, she thinks. Very eager to please Dad.

When the music starts and Mom begins instructing them, Vanya’s spirits are lifted. Luther might be a self-proclaimed terrible dancer, but he seems to know the rhythm just fine, and he’s far better at remembering the correct steps than she is. Although she falls over her own feet a lot, he never gets too frustrated, and moves on quickly, which she appreciates.

It’s just that… the music is energetic. Vanya is not an energetic person. She tends to be a slow reactor, she talks slowly, and she gets exhausted quickly. She’s the opposite of the human ball of energy that is Five. Mom tells her this is a side effect of the illness she had as a child, for which she had to be quarantined. Vanya assumes that must be true, but still. She can hardly keep up, when the music starts to increase in pace.

“Walk!” Mom calls out, and Vanya stumbles. Luther is a very sturdy presence, but he’s distracted by Allison a lot of the time. She sneaks a glance – Klaus and Allison are doing way better than them. Of course.

Vanya tries again. She has to walk backwards, while Luther walks forwards, holding her waist and right hand. She’s certain her palms must be all gross and sweaty.

She steps on Luther’s foot. “Sorry!” She squeaks, mortified.

“It’s fine. I’m durable.”

“And turn!”

Vanya tries to turn. She doesn’t do a very good job, and pulls a face. “Sorry,” she says, again.

Luther shrugs – a difficult task when someone is trying to dance around in a circle without falling over. “Really, don’t worry about it,” he says. “Maybe try and relax.”

“I’m trying,” she says, and laughs nervously.

At that moment, there is the sound of a cane striking the hardwood floor, and both she and Luther freeze in place. They all know that sound.

“Number One!” Reginald barks, and Luther flinches so hard that Vanya worries –

There is a sickening cracking sensation in the bones of her right hand.

Vanya gasps – she would scream, but all air has suddenly left her lungs, as though they too have been utterly crushed.

Her body flushes extremely hot, and then with an icy cold, all at once. Dizziness washes over her, and pain radiates out from her hand and down her arm, so badly that she feels like she might throw up. “During practice, I expect to see _progress_ ,” Dad snaps, “not you _children_ making idle conversation!”

With every word – and there are many more, there is a ringing sound in Vanya’s ears that makes it difficult for her to listen – Luther gets meeker. He shrinks in on himself, and eventually drops Vanya’s hand.

“I am unimaginably disappointed,” Reginald declares. “Your conduct…” She tunes out.

It hurts – so – much. She has to hold her breath and stare at the floor. She feels all the blood drain from her face. She keeps her mouth firmly shut. Has to clamp down her throat to stop any whimpers or whines from escaping that would give her away, even as she feels the bones in her hand grinding against each other with every single breath.

She notices, distantly, that the music has stopped.

“Yes, Sir,” Luther says.

But Reginald’s not done. “And another thing—!”

_If I faint,_ Vanya thinks, _I’ll be in so much trouble._

She manages to stay standing.

“And as for you, _Number Seven_ ,” Dad says derisively, sneering at her. She makes eye contact and hopes she doesn’t look as ill as she feels. “I must say that I am disappointed, but not at all surprised to discover that you do not, in fact, harbour a hidden talent for dance.”

She nods, and then feels queasy. She wonders if her hand looks bent out of shape at all. She puts it behind her back, and pain shoots up her arm. She bites down hard on the inside of her cheek.

“In fact, I do believe you have as much grace as a new-born, blind animal,” Reginald declares. “I hope you have _enjoyed_ wasting Number One’s time this lesson, because I cannot see the benefit in you partaking in them hence-forth. Have you _anything_ to say for yourself?”

Vanya couldn’t say anything if she wanted to – she feels like her chest has been ripped open. She shakes her head mutely.

“Very well,” Reginald scoffs. “Let it be known that for the benefit and _safety_ of everyone else, you will never be permitted to set foot in this ballroom again.”

_Good,_ Vanya thinks. _I hate it here._

At some point, Reginald must finish his tirade and leave the room, because Luther turns back to her. All the freedom and carelessness has been sapped from his expression.

“Let’s go again,” he says, jaw clenched. “Vanya?”

She stares at him, her arm hanging down. If she opens her mouth, she knows – she _knows,_ that what comes out won’t sound human.

“Vanya, you look—” Luther pulls away. Searching her face, he looks genuinely concerned, but also mildly irritated. She’s sorry. “What’s wrong?”

Okay. She can’t hide it anymore. The jig is up, as Five would say. She can see in her peripheral vision, that her siblings are turning to look at them, annoyed. It’s not Luther’s fault for having super-strength - she’s causing a scene.

“Luther,” she gasps, and just like she thought, it makes a fresh wave of sickness run over her. God, she’s sweating. This really hurts. Five broke his arm once. He didn’t say it felt like _this._ “I – think – I’m going to faint.”

“ _What_?” Luther is understandably alarmed to receive this news.

Vanya tries for a reassuring smile – it’s definitely a pained grimace instead. “Please excuse me,” she says, and then lurches out of the room.

When she makes it to the infirmary – she thinks she hears the others calling after her, but she doesn’t stop – Vanya slams the door shut and then slides to the ground, tears rolling hotly down her face. She holds her right wrist tightly, and presses her cheek to the cool tiles.

Finally, she can start screaming, the noise ringing in her ears, a buzzing, distant sound. She sobs so hard that she has no breath left, and blackness rushes up to meet her.

…

“Vanya, I’m sorry,” Luther says, distraught, much later. He appears to mean it – his face is blotchy and red, and his hands shake. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Vanya says, trying to smile, to make him feel better. “It doesn’t hurt so bad.”

He sniffs, and looks down. “Still. I should have had more control than that.” Vanya kind of agrees, but she is tired, and she feels bad because he clearly feels bad, and she wants to forgive him.

The seconds pass. Vanya doesn’t quite know what to say. Her bandaged hand throbs. “It wasn’t your fault. You were startled.”

“I guess.” He still seems uncomfortable.

“I stepped on your toes,” she adds lamely. “Let’s just say we’re even.”

Luther looks up and smiles, hopefully, happily. She tries to smile back – it must look realistic because he seems to buy it.

As soon as he’s gone, she flops back onto her bed and drops the stupid smile. The truth is, it really hurts. _And_ to make everything worse, now she’s banned from dance class. And Dad is even more mad at her than usual. And because of her, apparently they have extra training, which means that they’re all going to be even more rude to her than normal, even though it wasn’t _her_ fault Luther broke her hand. But it’s not like any of them are going to sympathise with her. Except Ben, maybe, but he’s too shy to stand up for her in front of them.

Whatever. She’s decided that she hates dancing, anyway.

Vanya rolls over and squashes her face into her pillow, alone now and determined not to cry again, even as her throat burns with the tell-tale feeling of tears, and her eyes sting.

_God,_ she thinks, _what a crappy, awful day. I hope Five comes home soon._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this :) leave a comment, please feel free to verbally abuse my cat. I'll read out loud to her the meanest comments - at this point I might literally have to write tomorrow's fic like THIS. UGH. WISTY WHYYY
> 
> Anyway hmm with this fic I was pretty proud of the way I described vanya's pain it felt very real, I've never broken a bone though (brag) so idk if it was realistic. I HAVE fainted before though. It was fun
> 
> see you tomorrow for the prompt "I didn't mean it" ooooooo


End file.
